The Q

by Beth Brower

“Only that I believe”—Arch lifted his shoulders, and the look on his face was so unguarded Quincy surprised herself by listening—“that each one of us has times when what we need most is someone who is willing to sit quietly by, waiting for us. Not interfering, just being.”

“There are few things more tedious than a friend who will not graciously receive.”

“Because the fall is when all good things are made manifest.”

No sense in being small because someone else doesn’t have the courage to measure up.”

“Yes, well,” Arch stepped stiffly, his face still set, “you tend to bring my folly out in spades. Besides, where I may not raise a hand for myself, it would be a cold afternoon in hell before I wouldn’t do it for you.”